


Right Here Where We Stand Is Holy Ground

by cpt_winniethepooh



Series: Happy Steve Bingo fills [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Hot Drinks, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winter, cooking together, old men discover new things together, so much fluff and winter goodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21523876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpt_winniethepooh/pseuds/cpt_winniethepooh
Summary: Bucky makes a bunch of weird winter drinks and Steve tries them. Contains beets, cardamom, a lot of winter cuteness and fluff. IT'S SO SWEET IT'LL ROT YOUR TEETH.A Happy Steve Bingo fill for the prompt 'coffee'.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Happy Steve Bingo fills [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1139174
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51
Collections: Happy Steve Bingo 2019





	Right Here Where We Stand Is Holy Ground

**Author's Note:**

> So, title is from Holy Ground by Taylor Swift because A, I have no chill when it comes to Taylor and B, I discovered what a genius album Red is and was listening to it while writing.

"... sounds weird. Have you tried it?"

"No," Steve said apologetically, not for the first time that day.

"Okay," Bucky said, and moved on to the next on the list. "And this?"

"Nope," Steve sighed.

"Have you tried _any_?"

"Um, the double-shot espresso lattes, but I didn't like the taste."

Bucky was trying not to take a pitying look at him, but Steve could tell what he was thinking anyway.

"And so you never went for the fancier ones, like the peppermint white chocolate mocha?"

"Exactly," Steve said. "Caffeine does nothing for me anyway, and it's so horribly overpriced. I like the taste of plain black, so I stick to it, and I can make it on the stovetop, so why bother coming here?"

"Because trying out new things is fun?" Bucky asked. "Because you can? Because you never know when you'll find something that you love so much it can change your life?"

All perfectly valid reasons from someone who had spent the last 70 plus years absent of any agency; all, however, not likely concepts for someone who was depressed beyond recognition.

"You're right," Steve said, emotions apparently clear on his face.

"Hey, don't be like that," Bucky bumped his shoulder. "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," Steve said. But he still felt so guilty – he had the opportunity that was taken from Bucky, and yet he didn't grab it. He tossed it away again and again, when he could've... but that's why depression was a bitch, wasn't it? It sucked the will and energy out of you until you were just a tired, lifeless shell.

"Hey, how about I make them for you?" Bucky asked, and he rubbed his hands together to warm them up from the chilly December air. Around them, passers-by came in and out the coffee shop they stood next to on the pavement, leaving an island for the two of them in the middle.

"What, like–

"Yeah. I'm sure there's recipes, and we could try them together?" Bucky smiled brilliantly. "You could even help me. I'm sure a coffee is not complicated enough to warrant burning the flat down."

"I never have–" Steve said indignantly, but Bucky just laughed.

This was why Steve loved Bucky and had missed him more than anything – well, this, and about two, maybe three thousand other reasons, but who was counting.

He always knew how to cheer Steve up, and his relentless enthusiasm was incurably infectious.

But the ingredients he brought home for their ‘winter drinks adventure’ were not very... appetizing.

"Are these beets?" he asked, when Bucky put the bag's contents onto the counter.

"Mhm," Bucky said. "Beet roots. Start the stovetop, will you? Extra strong."

Steve did, his mind still trying to wrap around the... fruit? Vegetable? What even were beets?

While the coffee was brewing, Bucky peeled the roots and began steaming them.

"Have you tried beets?" Steve asked him.

"Nope," Bucky said. "You?"

"I have," Steve said. "But those were, like, pickles."

Bucky blinked at him, suddenly uncertain. "Well. We'll see?"

"Yeah," Steve said.

When Bucky deemed them sufficiently steamed, he poured them into the blender. When it was time to add the milk, however, he paused.

"Worst case scenario, we throw it out and brush our teeth and go back to the coffee shop to wash away the taste?" he asked hopefully.

"I mean, what can we lose?" Steve agreed. "Let's do this."

They added the rice milk, then the gooey dates for sweetness, then the vanilla extract, and blended the whole batch anxiously together. The liquid turned into a beautiful berry color and smelled sweet and fresh.

"I suddenly wish we were working with raspberries instead," Bucky sighed. "Should we strain it?"

Steve eyed the mixture. "Yeah. I don't trust the beets."

Bucky chuckled, but did strain it, and then they poured it into a pan and put it onto medium heat.

As soon as it began to heat up, the earthy smell of the mixture intensified, and Steve swallowed. "That smells nice," he admitted.

"Agreed," Bucky threw a cinnamon rod into it, and kept stirring continuously. "Maple syrup?"

Steve handed it to him, and Bucky poured liberally, then turned the stove off. Steve brought the coffee over without prompting, and they added that, too.

"Now or never," Bucky said, and poured one mug for himself and one for Steve.

It no longer smelled nice: it smelled _amazing_. The maple syrup sweetened the still fresh scent, and the caffeine underneath had always made his mouth water.

They locked eyes, Bucky raised an eyebrow, and they clinked their mugs together.

"At three?" Bucky asked, and Steve, never to back down from a challenge, nodded.

"Three," he said, and they sipped carefully.

It was nothing like Steve had ever tasted before, yet it tasted awfully familiar with the coffee and the cinnamon and the sugars in it. But the beet... it was nothing like the pickled ones he had eaten previously; sweet and syrupy and earthy, it was the perfect drink for cold weather and sunlight.

"Wow," Bucky's eyes were blown wide.

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

The only thing preventing them from slurping up the whole pot's worth in one go was the heat, but even so, the mixture did not get cold before they vanished it all.

"Do you trust my beets now?" Bucky grinned, his lips still stained red. Steve leaned in to kiss it, and he reveled in the sweet aftertaste.

"I do, chef," he said.

"Now I want to taste the beets by themselves," Bucky added.

"...why didn't we just do that earlier?" Steve asked.

Bucky stared at him with expressionless eyes. "Because we're dumbasses, apparently."

As it later turned out, the beets were much better as part of the hot latte, although Bucky claimed he liked them as they were. Steve didn't believe a word of it.

They delved into the world of hot beverages after that, and it was Steve's turn to choose. He went for something he has heard of, at least, although as tea, not as...

"Chai hot chocolate?" Bucky asked, when he saw it, then nodded in approval. "I like the tea version, Nat made me try it once. And hot chocolate is awesome, right?"

That, even Steve had to concede.

Rice milk went into the pot first, then the cocoa powder and raw sugar, and then almost a full bar of dark chocolate, broken up, even though the recipe said less. But neither of them could say no to the promise of rich, good quality chocolate, and they didn't try too hard, either.

Then the freshly cut ginger, which Steve had seen as a core ingredient of many warm drinks he had never tried. The ginger smelled sharp enough to cut his nose, but by then there was enough sugar and chocolate in the pot to balance out a whole lemon, so they didn't even blink an eye when they had to add it.

"What even are cardamom pods?" Steve asked as he read the next ingredient.

"I dunno, but I bought them," Bucky said, and he miracled out his own, dangerously sharp knife to cut them. Steve watched his hands, marveled at his dexterity, the way his muscles worked on the handle, how precise he was with the blade.

"I won't cut myself, don't worry," Bucky said without looking up. "I'm a master with knives."

"I wasn't worried," Steve said thickly, and Bucky blinked up.

"No, you're not," he agreed, and they met in a hot kiss in the middle, the mix forgotten on the counter until, a few hours, a new set of clean bedsheets and a warm shower later, they were ready to resume the experiment.

"So, where were we?" Bucky asked as he swept the cardamom pods into the pot, hair still damp.

"Cloves," Steve helpfully supplied after consulting the recipe. "And cinnamon sticks." 

"That all?" Bucky heated the stove and put the pot on.

"And... cayenne pepper?"

"That isn't, like, _real_ pepper," Bucky shrugged, confident after the success of the beans. With the cayenne in the mixture as well, they waited for the chocolate to melt.

It took long, long minutes when the smell was intensifying but the chocolate was still in large chunks, leaving beautiful marble-like effects in the light brown milk. Bucky was stirring constantly, and Steve found himself draped over his shoulders, his arms wrapped around Bucky's waists.

"Smells sweet," Steve commented.

"You are sweet," Bucky replied, and Steve pecked a kiss to his cheek.

When all the chocolate was melted, they fished the cinnamon, the pods and the ginger out from the top, and poured them into the largest mugs they could find.

"Oh, the whip!" Bucky exclaimed.

He had put coconut milk into the freezer the night before, which he now scooped into a bowl with powdered sugar and vanilla extract, whipped it up, and spooned to the top of the mugs.

"This looks just as good as the fancy drinks on billboards do," Steve said, smelling his own.

"And smells better," Bucky said.

"And tastes like heaven," Steve said after the first sip.

The coconut whip melted into the thick, magnificent liquid, enriching and intensifying the aroma even more. Steve burned his tongue with the next swallow, but he didn't care: this was a drink he couldn't stop midway through. He only lowered his glass when it was empty, and Bucky was staring at him behind his own, still full one.

"What?" Steve asked defensively.

"Nothing. I'm glad you like it," Bucky said. Steve eyed his mug, and Bucky squinted at him.

"No. It's mine," he said, and then drank his own in one go, just to prevent Steve from getting it first.

The next drink was more traditional, although full of ingredients that Steve hadn't tried before, not that that meant anything other than the fact that he was truly a 100-year-old hermit.

For the base Bucky used coconut milk now, which did taste more of coconuts than milk. So far, so good. But then the ground turmeric came: an intensively smelling, amber-colored spice that neither of them dared to lick. The ground cinnamon was also an old friend, but neither of them believed their eyes when the recipe suggested adding ground black peppers too.

"The beets worked, and it was the same blog," Bucky said.

"Let's be brave," Steve agreed, and so, in went the peppers too.

The dates and the vanilla extract, they had already trusted at this point, and the rest was simple: blend, strain, heat.

Until the coffee and the maple syrup was added, the mixture had a beautiful golden color, true to the name: golden milk. This time, they took the first sip with more confidence, and again, the drink did not disappoint.

"It's more like... winter solace," Bucky said. "Like, in very far up North where the Sun doesn't go down for half a year?"

Steve hadn't seen that, and the spices reminded him more of India, but he saw Bucky's point.

"I feel like it's warming me up from my bones," he said.

"Imagine adding some of Thor's ale," Bucky said. "It would be like butterbeer!"

This time, they put the rest in the fridge when it cooled down, and reheated it after their next walk, when they came in from the cold with red cheeks and freezing noses, and the drink worked wonders on their chilled limbs and spirits.

The peanut butter latte was again Steve's choice, because he had been allergic to peanuts and now wanted to use the opportunity to try it out. So far all their experiments ended up as a resolute success, and Bucky even made some for the rest of the team at the Christmas party, swiftly making many new friends and requests for the recipes.

For this one, they needed twice as many dates as before, which they took as a decadently good sign. Then cashews, actual peanut butter, vanilla extract and the coffee went into the blender, which was topped by a helping of ground cinnamon.

They did the rest by heart: blending, heating, serving.

If possible, this was the most underwhelming of their trials, although still really good.

"I think it's missing some maple syrup," Steve mused.

"Maybe some pepper?" Bucky ventured.

"Or the cardamom. I don't know what that tastes like, but it could use some?"

"I might throw in some new things next time," Bucky promised – but the batch they made was still gone by midnight, and only the lingering scent of peanut and caramel remained.

Neither of them batted an eye at the recipe which had them putting apple cider into a pot with sliced orange and ginger, the by now familiar cracked cardamom pots, cloves, cinnamon and for a change, cranberries. This time, however, no milk nor coffee was involved.

"Seriously?" Steve asked.

"I wanna prove to you that you can do it without coffee," Bucky said.

When it was simmering, however, Bucky put the top onto the pot, and left it there for half an hour.

Steve's mild disbelief morphed into raw want by the end of that half hour: the citrus, the apple and the cinnamon came together in the loveliest of ways, and the aroma filled the whole apartment. If there existed a trademark scent for winter, this must have been it.

Bucky agreed.

"I want to bottle this and smell it when I'm in distress," he said wistfully.

"Maybe they have it in candles," Steve said hopefully.

And even though this drink had no coffee, and not even milk, and previously Steve would've said that it therefore didn't qualify as a proper winter drink, the mulled apple cider won both of their approval and shot to the top of "best winter drinks" by a large margin.

**Author's Note:**

> All the recipes are from this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_URtsY1FGg If you try them, let me know how you like them!


End file.
